Silent Tears
by Melissa Rivers
Summary: Jack reflects on life. Spoilers for First Chapter/Silent Running


SILENT TEARS (1/1)  
by Melissa Rivers  
([missy@lexicon.net)][1]

Disclaimer: The characters that you recognise from Water Rats are the property of Southern Star and Hal McElroy and to the actors who so marvellously portray them. More than likely Channel 9 has some say in them too g Spoilers for A Day at the Office, First Chapter and Silent Running. The story takes place in the final moments of Silent Running.

Many thanks to Clotho for editing.

PART 1/1

The last tentacles of light spilled over Detective Jack Christey's desk, withdrawing gradually before disappearing altogether, as the sun dipped behind the nearby hills which formed part of Sydney Harbour. Jack held a photograph in a dark wooden frame, admiring the features of the young woman who smiled brightly back at him and his finger traced her image. The last vestiges of sunlight touched the glass on the frame, highlighting the features of the young woman he had come to love.

Darkness quickly fell over the detective's office. Over the last couple of years, he had spent the majority of his waking hours - and quite a few of his sleeping ones as well. The room gave him a sense of security - there were always criminals to catch, and mysteries to solve. It was a hectic pace which denied him the opportunity to dwell on the emptiness of his life - the large, vacant gap that Rachel had left in his heart. 

In the silences at home, he found himself searching for ways in which to remember her smiling face, rather than the ruby red blood that had flowed over both their hands and cascaded in a pool around her body, as the last traces of life seeped away; taken by the sharp, vicious strokes of a killer's knife. He had whispered his words of love, encouraged her to fight for life, to hold on - he could hear the sounds of the sirens in the distance, and getting closer. Yet, she had only said one word before she had given in to the pain, to the call of death, and it had not been his name, but that of his predecessor - Frank Holloway.

Alex and Mick had tried to talk him in to going to Cutter's Bar with them, but he had told them he had paperwork to do. It was true, there was always paperwork to be done, yet that wasn't the reason he wanted to stay in the office on his own. He knew he hadn't fooled them though and he had been grateful when they hadn't pushed him. It hadn't surprised him; the way he had treated them during the last twenty-four hours, he wouldn't have wanted to be in his presence either. The two of them had received a good serve of his frustration as they had hunted for the kidnappers of his daughter; a daughter he had discovered only weeks earlier. 

Now in the silence, interrupted occasionally by the sound of movement downstairs from the evening staff, he contemplated the events with Brett Kimble. When he had jumped Rosie, he had never imagined how it would impact on his daughter. It wasn't a consideration he felt he needed to make; they were two separate areas of his life If he had known how his actions would take an innocent man's life, and endanger his own daughter's life, he would never have bothered. Sure, Brett Kimble would have escaped, but he had not been the threat to society that his partner in crime had become, playing out her Bonnie and Clyde fantasy.

When he had entered his home, with Brett and Rosie controlling the game, the handbag on his couch had been like a frosty hand digging into his body and grasping his heart tightly. Why the hell had Sophie still been in Sydney? More to the point, in his own home? He knew she had a key, but he hadn't intended when he gave it to her, for Sophie to be caught in the middle of a hostage situation, that would rapidly escalate. 

He had admired her guts when she had yelled out her warning to Alex. He had also felt like clipping her about the ears for not paying attention to his instructions; do everything they say and don't antagonise them. Yelling her warning to Alex had not been a good call, and Sophie had paid the price with a backhand across her face. As he had seen the blood ooze from her mouth, his heart had been wrenched. Her face bore the marks of her defiance, and the physical attack had suddenly brought the reality of the situation to her. It wasn't going to be like TV and the good guys would win. There was a risk that they would both lose their lives, and she had finally understood that.

  
  


His daughter had also surprised him. Sophie had kept calm while Brett had taunted him, and had played the game dealt to her by Brett and Rosie. She hadn't fallen in a heap at the danger they were both in and she had even lied proficiently enough to allow for the hope of rescue; something he'd keep note of in the future - it wouldn't do to have a daughter who could lie with a gun to her head without prior training - that must have come from her mother's side of the family.

Jack couldn't imagine the fear that must have been coursing through her body - a girl who had never been exposed to this type of criminal before, one whose desperate attempt for freedom from the justice system was quickly notching up an increasing body count. Yet, she had sat there on the floor, with her legs and arms bound tightly with rope and black masking tape covering her mouth, dividing her attention between watching him and Brett.

With his eyes, Jack had tried to convey that everything would be okay. It was hard to be convincing with his own arms and legs bound, and his mouth taped as well, combined with his partner, now unconscious on the floor beside him in a similar state. They were both fully trained officers of the law, and they had not been able to overcome the criminal elements before them.

Sophie had reluctantly complied with Brett's command to assist him. The vicious grasp at her clothing when she hesitated had made him jump. Her feet had stumbled in an attempt to miss Alex's head as Brett dragged her closer to his side. Jack had wanted to jump up and offer himself as the hostage, a human crutch to his incapacitated leg. He had had no option than to watch, watch as they took his daughter out the door to an unknown destination. 

Later that evening, after Brett was dead and Rosie safely locked up in a holding cell, Jack had listened to Sophie give her statement to Mick and Jeff in the interview room. Watching her through the darkened one-way glass, he had taken account of the bruising to her face, the chaffing to her wrists from where the rope had bitten into the delicate skin. 

As Sophie detailed her attempt for freedom, he had vividly seen the scene in his mind; his daughter running, on legs which were unsteady from being folded in the boot of the car, arms tied behind her and her eyes, a look of terror as she stumbled her way down the dirt track, tripping over nature's debris. His daughter versus. a .38 pistol in the hands of a loose cannon killer. Rosie may not have been a crack shot, but she had proven that lucky shots kill.

Alex had come up during the interview, handing him a cup of coffee. Watching Sophie in the interview, Alex commented that, "she's like you, Jack." The words had made him look sharply at her, and then at his daughter. Alex had laughed and quickly reminded him that it wasn't her beauty that was the similarity and walked away. 

From then on, he had watched Sophie closely as she spoke, detailing her ordeal and the actions she had taken, recognising certain elements of her character that were very similar to his own. He wasn't too sure if he was happy at seeing a couple of them in his eighteen year old daughter, who had been brought up impeccably by her adoptive parents. 

Jack tried to talk to Sophie about the events and it had surprised him when she had admitted that they had been lucky. It increased his estimation of her character and just when he was about to talk about them, they were interrupted by her father. He had watched for a moment, a voyer on a family reunion, one in which he was excluded. Jack had left the room, realising that while Sophie and he would have a special relationship, it would never be the same as the one Doug and Sophie had. 

Now, as he sat and looked at the picture of Sophie and himself during his stay in Coffs Harbour, Jack recalled his final words to Rosie. The fact that she had killed Brett, through her actions and inaction, her fantasies clouding her judgement. Was he in the same situation? Was his need for a family, to love and be loved, obscuring his own judgement. There were elements of danger which attached itself to his life through his work. Now, in only the short time Sophie had known him, she had already been subjected to the darker side of his work - was their ongoing relationship worth the possible risk to her life. 

Maybe Doug was right after all, maybe Sophie would have been better off never having found him in the first place. As he contemplated his future and his family, his head felt heavier and he gave in to the sleep which he had been resisting, the photograph still clasped firmly in hand.

The End.

   [1]: mailto:(missy@lexicon.net)



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